Heretic

By J.F.R. Coates

Rhys has been abandoned on Pluto, cast off by Snow for learning the truth about Amy and her Starat Freedom Union. Their target is clear.
Terra is in mortal danger and Rhys is the only one who knows about the coming peril. But he is just one starat, voiceless in an empire of ignorance.
Rhys must find new allies to help him as he delves back into the heartland of the empire, desperate to save the people who would rather him dead. If he is to succeed, he must uncover the secrets behind the empire and the Vatican on Mars.
All the while, a familiar torment stalks him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.F.R. Coates
• Release date: Nov 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9781922061744

J.F.R. Coates

J.F.R. Coates is a speculative fiction author, focusing in fantasy and science fiction. Her work tends to focus away from the human characters of the setting, instead giving life to the creatures that dwell alongside the familiar. From dragons and gryphons, to creatures of her own creation - like the ailur or starat - these story worlds are full of fascinating creatures to get to know.Born and raised in picturesque Somerset, England, J.F.R. Coates moved to Brisbane in Australia as a teenager. She grew up reading from a young age, starting with Enid Blyton's The Famous Five and Secret Seven, before finding her calling with J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit. Fantasy has gripped her ever since, and now she calls amongst her favourite authors Maggie Furey, Philip Pullman, and Neil Gaiman.

Book preview

Chapter One

The shuttle was quiet. Forty people had boarded at Shanghai, all travelling on to Delhi, but no one was interested in conversation. Thirty-eight humans and two starats sat quietly, with only the occasional rumble of the shuttle engines and click of the toilet door breaking the silence. Some of the passengers read books or watched a video to pass the time, though the flight was not a very long one.

One human had not brought anything to entertain herself during the flight. She had a window seat though, giving her the opportunity to stare down at Terra as the Chinese mountains passed by below. Occasionally, she glanced down to her right hand, where an unfamiliar ring adorned her finger. She smiled. They had not yet decided what surname to keep. She might become Stephanie Griffiths, or he could become Rhys MacArthur.

Stephanie leaned her head against the vibrating wall of the shuttle. She closed her eyes for a moment. Rhys had been so nervous when he had gotten down on his knee for her, but she had said yes without any hesitation. They hadn’t had much chance to make any arrangements yet, as her visit in Shanghai had only been a short one. She hadn’t even had the opportunity to tell her family. Her parents had certainly welcomed Rhys into the MacArthur clan, especially as Rhys had been deprived of one of his own for several years now. She couldn’t wait to see their reaction to the new ring on her finger.

That’s beautiful.

Stephanie smiled at the compliment. The woman sat in the seat next to her had been silent for the whole flight so far, but she had seemingly seen the ring on her finger.

Stephanie opened her eyes and turned to face the woman, but she wasn’t there. The seat was empty. She looked up sharply, catching sight of the woman as she made her way into the toilets at the back of the shuttle.

I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spoken.

The same voice again. Stephanie looked across the row of three seats on her side of the aisle. The aisle seat was taken by a starat, who stared down at its lap.

Stephanie narrowed her eyes and recoiled back in her seat. She turned her head to look forward. Had it really been the starat who had spoken? Why had it spoken to her? How had it? The creature shouldn’t have known about what concepts like beauty were. It had a simple mind with simple thoughts, capable of following orders and little else.

The starat didn’t say another word. The silent woman who had been sat between them didn’t return back to the same seat, leaving a vacant space.

Stephanie’s breath quickened. Her eyes kept sliding back across to the starat, despite her best attempts to keep looking forward. Something felt amiss. Her mind raced as thoughts seemed to break through a barrier she had not known to have existed. She slowly looked back across to the starat.

You think it looks nice?

The starat squeaked in surprise. It – she – looked over to Stephanie. Her brown eyes were wide as she looked over to the human. Her ears flicked back as she nodded quickly. I do, yes.

The silence, previously so comfortable, felt slightly awkward. Stephanie tried not to keep looking towards the starat, but something about her seemed odd. There was a light in her eyes, a brightness of intelligence Stephanie had never seen in a starat. She had never really looked before.

What’s your name? Stephanie asked, the question escaping her mouth before she had chance to consider it.

The starat blinked. Rina. My name is Rina.

Stephanie held her hand out, reaching across the empty seat between them. My name is Stephanie.

Rina took hold of Stephanie’s hand. She stared up at the human. A smile slowly broke across her furred face. You’ve had an understanding.

Stephanie paused. She withdrew her hand and looked down at the starat, who stared at her with earnest, excited eyes. She tried to process what had happened in her thoughts, and how her perception of the starat had changed so drastically. One moment, she had been a creature. Now, she was a person. Stephanie could think of no better word to describe the change. An understanding. She nodded her head. I have.

It happens to humans sometimes, Rina said quietly. She looked around the shuttle. No one else appeared to pay any attention to her, or the conversation they were having.

Why? How? So many other questions bubbled up in Stephanie’s mind, but those seemed the most important.

I don’t know, Rina replied. She shook her head slowly. No one knows how it happens, but sometimes it just does.

And you’re all like, well, you? Stephanie asked, gesturing her hand weakly towards the starat.

Rina smiled sadly. We are. Every last one of us. There are some humans who know and still hate us for it, but most who have an understanding realise how bad we’re treated, the starat said. Her voice trembled and she looked down at her clasped hands in her lap. And then there are some of us who are more than that.

What do you mean? Stephanie asked.

Rina opened her mouth to answer, but she was distracted by quick movement in the aisle. The second starat on board the shuttle hurried over to them. Rina slid across to the middle seat in the row to allow the newcomer to take a seat. His eyes blazed with panic and terror.

Easy, Arnav. She’s had an understanding, Rina said quietly, placing her hand on the other starat’s wrist.

Arnav pulled back and shook his head. They’ve found us, he said, his voice strained and harsh.

Rina’s ears pulled back, falling almost flat against her head. Are you sure?

Arnav nodded. He said nothing else. He looked down at the floor and trembled.

What’s going on? Stephanie asked. She looked between the two starats, but neither of them seemed to be able to meet her eye.

Rina’s shoulders trembled. When she finally looked up again, there were tears flowing from her eyes. I’m so sorry, she whispered. We’re all dead. We’re going to die.

Stephanie gripped hold of the armrest. She had no answer to that. What could she say to such a declaration? She felt her face pale.

Arnav looked up to her. His fur was still dry, but he looked close to crying too. The Vatican are chasing us. We thought we could get away, but they’ve tracked us down.

I won’t let them take you, Stephanie said quickly. I’m with the military. I have authority. As soon as we land in Delhi, I’ll do… I’ll do something. We have a few hours to think of something to keep you safe.

Arnav laughed bitterly. We’re not going to be landing. When it comes to starats like us, they don’t allow survivors. They certainly won’t allow witnesses. They’re going to shoot us down from the sky.

How do you know that? Stephanie asked.

Arnav held a hand to his furred forehead. I know things before they happen. Only by a few minutes, but that’s enough for the Vatican to want me dead. There are others like us. We have abilities we can’t explain. We keep them quiet, but sometimes the church learns about us, and that’s a death sentence.

I’m so sorry, Rina whispered again. She reached out with trembling hands, holding onto Stephanie and Arnav together. Because of us, everyone here is going to die.

We should tell them, Stephanie said, starting to rise to her feet.

Arnav jumped across to pull her and Rina down.

The shuttle exploded in a deafening crash. Metal twisted and tore as heat singed over Stephanie’s body. She was thrown from her seat, ripped out of the shuttle as it fragmented around her. In her hands, she managed to keep hold of the two starats.

She began to fall. Sky and ground alternated, over and over and over again.

A pitch black sky dotted with faint stars stretched to infinity above. The ground below was icy and cold; white and pale pink. They alternated and spun, gleaming on the inside of a visor.

The shuttle, miraculously intact once again, shone brightly in the sky. The engines fired up. Standing on the open access hatch was a lone albino starat, whose eyes blazed with power and fury.

A single starat fell from the sky, descending towards the surface of Pluto. Bracing himself for impact, Rhys curled himself up into a tight ball. He struck the ground hard, but the rock was softer than it should have been. Darkness gripped fingers of ice into his mind. Memory and dream became one and the same.

***

The starat woke with a jolt.

Rhys’s eyes fluttered open. He jerked upright and screamed in pain as his withered arms protested the sudden movement. He wasn’t on the shuttle, but nor was he left lying on the surface of Pluto. Instead, he lay on a mattress in a room that looked a cross between a ward and a dormitory. A dozen other beds filled the room he found himself in. There was no one else present.

Aches and pains covered almost every inch of his broken and battered body. He could barely move without triggering another burst of pain, but the starat forced himself to swing his legs over the side of the bed. He had been stripped naked sometime since his fall from the shuttle, but he couldn’t see any clothes around him.

Rhys struggled to bring his mind up to date with everything. He knew he had been pushed from the shuttle by Snow. That much was obvious. She, and Amy included, planned to use the terrifying weapon Rhys had uncovered in the labs of Pluto. He had protested that, and Snow had pushed him out of the shuttle, presumably with the intent of killing him. That had clearly not worked, though Rhys was in enough pain that death perhaps couldn’t yet be ruled out.

And then there was the dream. He had dreamed about the crash that had claimed Stephanie’s life before, but never like that. Never had it seemed so clear to his mind, and there had certainly never been a starat there before. Unlike most dreams, everything seemed crisp and clear to his memory, even as he woke up.

Slowly, Rhys placed his feet on the ground. He hissed in displeasure as spikes of pain ran up his legs, and his hands burned in agony as he braced them against the mattress to push himself upright. He tottered on his feet as he struggled to find his balance. He felt like he had reverted to those first few days of being in this starat body, before he had understood how to balance and walk on his new legs.

Gritting his teeth to fight back the pain, Rhys stumbled forwards, towards a door at the far end of the ward-like room. He’d seen enough of medical bays over the past few months. He didn’t want to be around any others.

Hello? he called out, hating how his voice trembled in pain.

The door at the far end of the room opened and a starat with tawny fur and dark spots stepped through. The newcomer’s fur looked luxuriously soft and thick, especially around his pointed ears.

Rhys’s ears flicked. He felt a little shame at his nudity, but he made no effort to hide himself. His body hurt too much to even worry about moving his hands quickly. He looked towards the other starat, who seemed vaguely familiar. Something nagged at the back of his mind, sure that he had seen this starat before.

The starat slowly approached Rhys. His hands were raised. You shouldn’t be standing up yet. Please, get back into bed.

Rhys swayed on his aching feet. He didn’t want to lie down again, but nor did he think he could remain upright for much longer. He reluctantly obeyed the starat’s request and gently eased himself back onto the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress with his tail draped over his lap to preserve a little modesty. Who are you? Where am I?

The starat perched on the edge of the bed next to Rhys. This is the starat quarters in the Tombaugh Station on Pluto. I believe you fell from a shuttle as it escaped. I found you on the surface and brought you in.

Rhys nodded slowly. His thoughts gradually caught up with the raid he had led. I was, yeah. They drained the air.

Captain Herschel ordered the air drain to deal with the dragon. Once that was recaptured and the raiding force was rebuffed, air was restored. I was lucky that I’d taken refuge in the airlocks, the starat explained. His bright green eyes glanced up, meeting Rhys’s gaze. You were one of the soldiers in the raid?

Rhys gasped. He knew where he had seen the starat before. You were who I spoke to in one of the labs. I told you to run. Your companions? Were they safe too?

The starat flicked an ear. That was you? Interesting, he said slowly. His piercing gaze dropped away again. We all made it through alive. No starats were hurt.

Rhys leaned back against the headrest of the bed. He struggled to get comfortable, with his legs and arms aching no matter what position he tried to rest them in. He could barely move his hands without precipitating a spike of pain through his withered muscles. My name is Captain Rhys Griffiths, formerly of Terra, now of Centaura. I was ordered to lead a raid against Pluto to acquire information. I was… I fell from the shuttle as we were leaving.

The other starat looked over Rhys’s body. Looks like you’ve been through some shit, Rhys Griffiths. Not all of those injuries were sustained from the fall, he said, before holding a hand to his chest. But I have been rude and not introduced myself. My name is Elijah. I have no home other than Pluto, unless you count my time imprisoned on Charon.

You were on Charon? Rhys asked in surprise. He had a vague memory of being told a starat prisoner had escaped during the raid on the small moon, though he himself had never seen the escapee. He looked over Elijah in surprise. Had he been the escaped prisoner?

Before Rhys could question Elijah on that, the other starat had already asked a question of his own. What caused those injuries to your hands? The symptoms remind me of Devil’s Blood.

Rhys flicked his ears in surprise. He curled his tail, swishing the tip gently. I think that was what it was called. I was tortured by a cardinal, but I was rescued. He stared down at his withered and damaged arms; little more than bone and sinew now. His fur had been seared away in places, leaving just burned and blistered flesh. It’s not just that, though. I… I don’t think you would be able to understand.

Elijah smirked. Try me. He tapped a finger against his head. There’s a lot more up here than you might realise.

Rhys sighed softly as he tried to work out how to best explain subspace and what it could do. He resisted the urge to rest his hands over his muzzle, instead keeping his arms still and to his sides. I can manipulate space and reality using subspace, he said slowly, keeping an eye on Elijah’s reactions. The other starat didn’t even blink. Unfortunately, if I’m not careful, just trying to move something can cause a lot of pain.

Sounds like what Kalisha can do.

Rhys tilted his head to the side. He leaned forward slightly. You know someone else who can do that?

It is a fascinating skill. Quite beyond anything I can do, but my talents lie elsewhere, Elijah said with a nod. I don’t think you should walk around yet, but I am sure Kalisha would like to meet you later. She will be finished with work in a couple of hours. That give you plenty of time to rest.

Rhys slumped back against the headboard behind him. He knew what was being expected of him: that he was to lie back and do nothing. He hated the idea, but he knew he didn’t have much choice. Do you have anything to deal with the pain, at least?

Elijah bowed his head. I can find something for you, yes. We steal enough from the humans to have enough to go around.

Rhys thumped his tail against the bed. I was on Centaura for barely a month, and already I’d been able to forget what starats here had to go through.

You haven’t been a starat long. You were never used to our ways, Elijah said with a shrug. He slipped off the bed and started to rummage through a set of drawers between the beds opposite.

Rhys narrowed his eyes and flicked his ear in confusion. How do you know that? he asked, surprised that Elijah had known about his human life.

Elijah glanced back and smirked. He tapped one finger against the side of his head. I remember everything I learn. A couple of months ago, I got my hands on some classified documents mentioning Captain Rhys Griffiths, the starat who had once been a human. Teleporter accident, I deduced, though the report didn’t actually state what had happened. I didn’t believe it at first, but I thought about it for a couple of days and worked out how it would be possible.

You worked it out? Rhys yelped. He tried to stand up again, but quickly desisted as pain lanced through his arms and legs. How? Is it reversible?

Elijah straightened his back and looked right at Rhys. Reversible? No.

Rhys twitched the tip of his tail. He wasn’t sure if he would have wanted to reverse his transformation were it possible. His body was broken and painful, but he still didn’t know if he wanted to be human again. He didn’t know if he wanted to go back.

The other starat offered a couple of small white pills for Rhys to take. The miniscule weight of the tablets burned onto Rhys’s palm as he struggled to move his arm up to his muzzle. Swallowing the tablets was easy enough, but the movement from his arms still ached even as he lowered his hands back down to his side. His muscles burned, and his skin felt taut and stretched with every movement, almost like it would tear were he not careful. He could only hope that the small pills would provide some relief to the constant pain.

Rhys took a deep breath. He needed to understand the situation he found himself in. He knew he had been left for dead by Snow, and no matter how far away she was now, there was little he could do to catch up to her. He needed to focus on what was happening in the Sol System. The albino starat planned to turn the Vatican’s subspace weapons against Terra. For all the hatred he now harboured towards the humans of Terra, he couldn’t allow them all to be killed in such away. The Terran starats, too, would be caught up in the assault, with no chance to protect themselves.

Whatever Amy and Snow had planned, Rhys knew he needed to stop it. Unfortunately for him, he was stuck on Pluto without any allies to help him. His ears flicked. Except for one.

I need to speak to Captain Herschel, Rhys said.

Elijah wrinkled his muzzle in distaste. You really have forgotten what it’s like to be here. Why would he speak to you? We’re just starats to James.

Rhys paused. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to tell Elijah about the truth of the raid on Pluto. He twitched his muzzle, but before he could think of what to say, the door at the far end of the room opened. Three starats curiously poked their heads inside the room; one male and two female. Rhys thought they might have been the other three of the starats he had briefly come across in the middle of the raid. Two had dark fur, almost black. The third, one of the two females, had much lighter fur with a red tint.

Elijah flicked his ears in surprise. I didn’t think you were finished for a few more hours.

The darker furred of the female starats shrugged her shoulders. James can get fucked. He’s been really odd the last few days, she said. Her eyes moved towards Rhys, who quickly pulled the bedsheets up over his lap. Besides, our surface walker is awake, and he’s much more interesting than anything James has to offer.

You’ll like him, Kalisha. He can do what you can do, Elijah said, his eyes flicking towards the female starat who had not spoken.

The red-tinted starat took a step back and blinked. You can? That’s very interesting indeed, she said in a soft whisper. Her voice reminded Rhys of Snow’s gentle, ephemeral voice. Perhaps we can die together when the Vatican learns of us.

Optimistic as always, the other female starat said, slapping her companion gently on the back. I’m Alison and this is Mikkel. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.

Rhys kept his eyes on Kalisha, feeling a little unnerved by her proclamation. I’m Rhys. Rhys Griffiths.

While his name had meant something to Elijah, none of the other three reacted to his introduction. They didn’t remember his name from the incident on Ceres. Rhys was almost glad of that. Perhaps he could feel like a true starat amongst them, without the guilt of his human past feeling like a weight around his neck.

Kalisha stepped forward, moving away from her two companions. She approached Rhys’s bed. Perhaps you might be willing to show me some of your talents, she said. She held one hand out, and Rhys noticed then that some of her fur appeared singed around the fingers. Black streaks ran up her wrists. He couldn’t smell oil or grime on her.

I have not had much training in them, Rhys admitted, lowering his eyes away from Kalisha’s fierce gaze.

And I have had no training at all, the russet starat replied. She grinned, showing off every last one of her teeth. So, what are you waiting for?

Rhys’s hands trembled as he lifted them up, unable to stop the pained shaking. Pain stops me, he whispered hoarsely. I overextended myself, and I’m hurting because of it. I… did you see a broken gun turret after the raid?

Yeah. It was twisted and partially melted, Mikkel said in awe. The dark-furred starat’s green eyes gleamed. I’ve never seen anything like it.

Rhys lightly touched a hand to his chest. That was me. Subspace makes me feel powerful when I’m using those abilities, but there is a heavy price to pay.

Kalisha’s muzzle twitched into a smirk. Then learn not to give in to that temptation, she said. Her right hand extended out, and with the familiar scent of cinnamon, a shirt materialised in her hand. She held the clothing out to Rhys. Learn to do the small things without penalty, and slowly your power will grow.

Still creeps me out, Alison added. She wrung her hands and turned slightly to the side. She stuck the tip of her tongue out.

Kalisha turned to look at the other starat. As it should, she warned. She dropped the shirt on Rhys’s bed when he didn’t take hold of it. She held her left wrist in her right hand. These are abilities that will get us killed if the wrong people know about it.

Rhys bowed his head. There are so many dangers to starats here, but there’s more coming. I need to speak to Captain Herschel so I can get a warning sent out to Terra.

Mikkel and Alison both scoffed in laughter.

Why would James listen to you? He’s a creep, Kalisha said. She narrowed her gold-flecked eyes towards Rhys, and her tail swished behind her.

Rhys looked around the small group of starats. He didn’t know how to explain the situation, but then he remembered one important detail that he had almost forgotten. The human he knew as General Carson had once been a starat in the Pluto station. Were any of you here with a starat called Samantha?

Elijah and Kalisha both shook their heads right away, but the other two nodded eagerly.

Yes, Mikkel said brightly. His smile then faded. But she disappeared. We never knew what happened to her. James was acting weirdly then as well, but no one else seemed to be odd.

Rhys’s eyes flicked towards Elijah. He then turned back to the other three. I was once human, but a teleporter accident robbed me of that. The same thing happened to Samantha. She was robbed of her body and given a new one. He paused and looked around the group of starats. Kalisha’s eyes flicked to Elijah, who nodded once. While I became a clone of a starat called Twitch, Samantha became a human: Captain Herschel.

Wait, she became… she became him? Alison said, clapping her hands to her mouth.

She escaped and fled to Centaura. She is now he. General Sam Carson. He organised a raid here, which I led. Our goal was to capture Captain Herschel and leave a decoy in his place, Rhys explained. General Carson. Samantha. That’s why you’ve noticed Captain Herschel has been acting odd today, because he’s no longer here. Samantha is.

A stunned silence followed Rhys’s words. Mikkel and Alison both slumped down onto empty beds. Only Kalisha remained standing.

So, when you say you want to speak to Captain Herschel… the russet-furred starat said uncertainly.

I really want to talk to General Carson. Sam. Samantha, Rhys said, struggling to get his thoughts right. He had thought of the general so much as the human Sam Carson, that he still struggled to properly identify him as the female starat he had once been, long before they had first met.

The four other starats all looked towards each other. A brief, silent conversation seemed to pass between them, told only through body gesture and tail flicks. At the end of it all, Elijah nodded his head. I’ll take you.

Rhys grinned and almost slipped out of the bed. A jolt of pain stopped him, and he was glad it did. A moment later he remembered that he still wore nothing beneath the bundled bedsheets. Uh. Do you have anything for me to wear?

Mikkel gave Rhys a thumbs up. You look about my size. I’ve got something for you. Just hang on a moment.

***

Mikkel’s clothes fit perfectly, though he needed some help from Elijah to actually wear them. He didn’t have enough movement in his arms to dress himself. Getting his hands through the sleeves of the borrowed shirt proved to be agonising. The painkillers he had been given didn’t seem to be doing too much to help ease the pain in his body.

Only Elijah went with Rhys. The other three remained behind, not wanting to get dragged into any orders from the humans they might come across. They were curious to learn more about Samantha, but they were willing to wait for their former companion to come back to them.

The corridors of the space port looked eerily familiar to Rhys. He had walked these corridors before, but then he had carried a rifle in his hands and was a hostile force intent on killing the enemy defenders. Now he walked freely, though nervously. He could still see small amounts of debris that had not been cleaned up, and bullet holes in the walls where shots had been missed.

Hardly any humans walked through the station. Those who did ignored Rhys and Elijah entirely. Rhys wondered how many of the humans he passed had been defending the port; how many Rhys had opened fire on. He curled his tail as he thought about it. Rarely before had he been forced to see an enemy after combat. He had never needed to put a face to the anonymous soldiers in battle.

Elijah walked slowly. He never commented about Rhys’s injuries, and while he never offered support, Rhys got the feeling that he was constantly braced to take Rhys’s weight should he fall. Rhys never needed that help, for which he was glad. Though his feet ached and his knees protested, he was able to stay upright. He felt weary, but he knew he couldn’t sit and rest. There was too much to do; too many dangers lurking over the horizon that needed to be addressed.

Terra had to be warned of the threat coming from Amy and Snow.

A cold shiver passed down Rhys’s spine. A chilling thought had suddenly come to his mind. He had been acting under the assumption that General Carson would be able to help him, but Rhys had no assurances that the general wasn’t on Amy and Snow’s side. Carson had certainly been one of the leading figures in coming up with the Pluto raid. Had he been duped by Amy too, or had he been in on her plans?

That potentially changed everything. Rhys knew he would need to be careful. Any wrong words and he would be entirely at General Carson’s mercy. In the Sol System, the human would be able to act however he wanted towards a starat without raising any eyebrows.

Suddenly wondering whether he was walking right into danger, Rhys kept his silence and followed Elijah. One way or another, he was going to learn Carson’s motives.

Chapter Two

Captain Herschel had a small office tucked away close to the centre of the Tombaugh Station, near the laboratories that studied the captive dragon. The office was unoccupied when Elijah cautiously opened the door. A desk filled most of the room, with a few chairs scattered untidily in front of it.

Rhys went to take a seat, but Elijah’s hand hooked beneath his shoulder, pulling him back up to his feet. He hissed in pain and tried to break free from the other starat’s touch.

I’m sorry, Elijah said, loosening his grip. You don’t want to sit down.

Why? Carson won’t care, Rhys replied.

The people he might be with will care, Elijah said simply.

Rhys bowed his head. His feet hurt and he swayed as he tried to find his balance, but he didn’t try to sit down again. He had been spoiled on Centaura. Even on Ceres, he had still been able to cling to his privilege of rank long enough not to truly experience starat life in the empire. This was his first true realisation of what such a life might be like. He could not allow himself to get sucked down into that.

How long do you think he’ll be? Rhys asked quietly. He didn’t look up.

Elijah poked his head back outside into the corridor. He’s almost always here, the starat said uncertainly. His tail flicked. He glanced back to Rhys and smiled. But he’s not Herschel, is he? Of course he’s going to act a little differently.

Does that make things difficult? Rhys asked.

Just means we might have to go on a walk to find him, Elijah said brightly, before his smile faded a little. He glanced down to Rhys’s legs for a moment. Unless you have an idea where he might be? What’s his mission here?

Rhys flicked his ears. Preventing development of a subspace weapon. I think, he said, a little of his uncertainty and fear creeping into his voice. Was Carson here to prevent that development, or to further it?

Elijah’s expression darkened. Ah, that. In the labs then. Come on, this way.

You know about the weapon? Rhys asked. He winced in pain as he limped after Elijah, whose pace had quickened slightly as they moved away from the small office again.

Elijah gestured for Rhys to be quiet. I’ll tell you what we know later, alright? he asked, looking back and holding his hand out to offer Rhys some physical support. The four of us have been doing what we can.

Rhys bit down on the immediate reply. He glanced nervously around, expecting to see some approaching humans, but the two starats were alone. He tucked his tail in close between his legs anyway, unsure if Elijah was afraid of being overheard.

Rhys recognised the laboratories. One of the doors had been recently repaired, fixing the damage he had caused when he had released the dragon. To Rhys’s disconcertion, Elijah opened the repaired door and stepped inside the lab. Rhys followed just behind him, though his heart skipped a beat at the familiar scent of the creature.

The dragon was back in its cage, though the powerful six-limbed creature was currently sleeping. Its eyes were closed as it lay on its side, limbs occasionally twitching. Rhys eyed the dragon warily, not yet convinced that the creature really was asleep. He could still feel the ache in his ribs from where the powerful tail had struck him.

Psst, here, Elijah whispered, drawing Rhys’s attention away from the dragon.

Three humans were also in the room, though none of them had even looked in the direction of the starats. Two of the humans, Rhys didn’t recognise. Neither were military, so Rhys had to assume they were scientists or researchers at the Tombaugh Station. The third, however, Rhys did know. He knew the man as General Carson, but to everyone else present, he would be Captain Herschel. He looked strange without his thick, bushy beard.

After a touch from Elijah, Rhys stayed back, keeping well away from the three talking humans. He couldn’t help but overhear.

…respiratory failure, but with heavy sedation, it should survive, one of the scientists was saying. Coming in mid-conversation, Rhys struggled to understand what they were discussing, before realising they were talking about the health of the dragon behind them. The creature had suffered in the brief period of being stuck in the artificial vacuum when the air had vented during the raid.

Rhys glanced back towards the dragon and flicked the tip of his tail, tuning out the rest of the conversation. The dragon wasn’t the only one who had suffered in those conditions. Emile, the pirate known as the Silver Fox, had given up his life in order to save Rhys. That sacrifice appeared to have been for nothing, as Rhys had been thrown from the shuttle before they had even managed to leave Pluto.

The starat’s thoughts darkened. He hated to think what Leandro’s reaction might be, losing his love so soon after they had been reunited. Should he ever make it back to Centaura, he would have to face the grey-furred starat’s grief and accept blame for the loss of the Silver Fox.

Elijah’s elbow nudged against Rhys’s chest. He looked up and quickly stepped out of the way as two of the humans approached. Neither of the two researchers seemed to realise the starats were there, as they were engrossed in their own conversation.

Only General Carson remained behind. He had his back to the two starats, palms pressed down on the desk as he looked over some information on the holoscreens. If he knew the starats were there, he didn’t address them at all.

Fuck, this is a mess, the human muttered.

Rhys cleared his throat.

What else was it? Carson said, still not looking back.

It’s Rhys. I’m still here. I need your help.

The human finally moved. He turned around, though his eyes initially looked at the wall above Rhys’s head. His focus slowly drifted down and his brow furrowed. No recognition was in his eyes. What is the meaning of this?

Rhys blinked and took half a step back, confused by the aggression in Carson’s voice. Had he made a mistake? Had the switch not been made? He was sure he had seen Herschel on the shuttle before his confrontation with Snow. He touched a hand to his chest. I’m Rhys. Rhys Griffiths.

I don’t give a fuck what you’re called. I’m busy. If you don’t have anything worthwhile for me, get out of my sight, the human growled. He started to turn away again. His ear wiggled slightly.

I… Rhys spluttered in confusion, unsure what was going on. This had to be the general. Carson? You know me.

Before the human could turn away entirely, Rhys could see a flicker of confusion in his eye. There was still no recognition there, but the name had certainly precipitated a response.

The movement was too quick for Rhys to respond to. One moment, Carson was at his desk, the next, the human’s hands were around Rhys’s throat. The starat was lifted off his feet and pressed back against the dragon cage. The creature within started to stir, letting off a slight growl.

Rhys couldn’t breathe. His burned hands tried to push back at Carson’s arms, but he didn’t have the strength to do anything.

The human’s eyes blazed with fury and hatred. I don’t know what jumped up plans have gotten into your pathetic little head, but you are nothing to me, Carson snarled. His fingers squeezed a little tighter. If you dare speak up to me again, I will have you spaced. Get that into your simple head.

Elijah spoke just one word. Samantha.

Confusion filled Carson’s eyes. He stared at Rhys still. Understanding flooded in. His pupils expanded in shock, and then revulsion.

The human released Rhys and staggered back. He stared at his hands, flexing his fingers. What the fuck happened?

Rhys dropped down to his knees and wheezed in several deep breaths. His throat felt rough and sore; just another ache to add to the growing malaise of his broken body. Nice to have you back, General.

Carson slowly dropped down to his haunches, resting his back against the wall behind him. Are you alright? I’m so sorry for that.

Elijah helped Rhys up to his feet. The two starats moved away from the dragon cage. The creature inside had fallen asleep again, though the tip of its tail lashed around in some kind of dream. No worse than I was, Rhys spluttered, leaning heavily into Elijah for support.

Carson shook his head. I can’t explain what happened. I looked at you and I saw… nothing. A creature. An animal. How could I even think that? He held his hands over his mouth. His gaze slowly turned to Elijah. You know who I am. Who I was.

Elijah nodded. Rhys told me. I thought your old name would give you an understanding.

An understanding? Yeah, so that’s what that feels like. But how could I think those awful things? Carson said with a shake of his head.

Elijah shrugged. I don’t know what causes it, but humans are able to look at us without being able to see the truth. It seems like they choose to see us as animals, despite all the evidence. I’ve theorised that there’s some sort of energy projecting this across all humans, but I can think of nothing that would be powerful enough to affect everyone in the system.

I think Snow can do that sort of thing on a small scale, Rhys said uncertainly. But for everyone? All humans? It sounds impossible.

Unfortunately, I can’t access all the information. The Vatican keep all subspace knowledge locked away too tight for me to access, Elijah said with a weary sigh. But I apologise, I am distracting you, Rhys. You wanted to see Carson for a reason.

Rhys’s mouth felt dry. He feared bringing up the topic about the subspace weapons with the human, especially as he could still feel what Carson’s hands felt like around his throat. If he was truly working for Amy and Snow, then perhaps he might act violently towards him again.

Carson’s eyes